


Monsters in Our Heads

by goldenwonder



Category: Batman Begins (2005), The Dark Knight Trilogy - Fandom
Genre: Antiheros, Assassins, Badass female character, Bruce Wayne is a true bro, F/M, Gen, Past Relationship(s), Psychology, Secret Agent, Spy - Freeform, Superheros, light Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:51:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5496062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenwonder/pseuds/goldenwonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling for a psychotic doctor is never much fun.<br/>Walking away from one is never much fun.<br/>Coming back to stop him from evil,<br/>Not much fun, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An old DC fanfic I found and edited, now promptly posting on here... I'm editing and posting as I go along, so bear with me [:

“Will you state why you’re here again, Miss?” Officer Michael says as he walked down the rows of cells with the strange woman.

  
“Just to check on Mr. Falcone, his lawyer sent me.” The woman says. She wore a simple black dress outfit, like she was working in an office, and her red, smooth hair was pulled back in a bun. Her black heels clicked against the marble floor, which seemed louder than the shouting inmates at Arkham Asylum. 

“May I see your I.D. again?” he says, stopping before they reached Mr. Falcone’s holding cell. She smiles sweetly, the red on her lips making her lips look almost menacing.

“Of course.” She says and takes out her I.D.   
Officer Michael inspected it carefully. Her name was Jamie Smyth, and there was her date of birth, photo, etc but she seemed flamiler, and he didn’t know why. He nods, stepping out of the way and letting her pass.  
The woman stood infront of the glass wall, looking into the room. Mr. Falcone was sitting in one of the chairs, his wrists and ankles restrained. He had a wild look in his eyes, and his head twitched to the side slightly. 

“Scarecrow… s-scarecrow…” he mutters. The woman frowns, almost disapprovingly, she turns to the officer. 

“What does he mean by “scarecrow”?” she says, gesturing to Mr. Falcone. The Officer sighs, looking at Falcone.

“We don’t know. We think it’s a figment of his imagination that’s haunting him. Well, that’s what Dr. Crane said-“ but the woman cut him off. 

“Crane? Dr. Crane? As in Jonathan Crane?” she says, stiffening slightly. He nods, noticing her sudden mood change.

“Yes, ma’am.” He answers. She nods, glancing at Falcone, then starts walking. 

“I need to go, where Jonathan- I mean, Dr. Crane is?” she says. Officer Michael hurried to catch up with her, wondering why she suddenly got agitated.

“Uh, in his cell here, at Arkham, for the past few months.” He stumbles over his words. She nods, walking out of the gate and turns to him. 

“Thank you, Officer Michael. I think I will be paying another visit to Arkham Asylum. But next time it well be personal.” She says. She shifted her purse on her arm then turns, walking out.   
Officer Michael sighs, shaking his head. 

“Hey, Mike.” His friend, Officer Justin said from behind the desk. Michael turns, 

“What’s up, man?” Officer Justin looks at him in complete shock. 

“I-I think we just let a fugitive in and out of Arkham.” He stutters. Officer Michael frowns, turning to the computer screen.   
Sure enough, there was a facial match from the woman, and besides her being marked as a criminal it said her name in bold letters at the bottom;

  
**BREANNE WALKER**


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce Wayne got a rather peculiar call about 15 minutes ago.

  
A strange woman had came to Wayne Enterprise and requested an interview with him. Thinking nothing of it, but knew about the pokey journalists trying to get into his life and his corporation, he checked out the company, and it was solid. He even saw a few articles this woman had written (or so he thought).

  
That was, until there was a facial recognition from one of his security systems.

  
And, she was definitely no innocent journalist in the slightest.

  
After disabling the security recall, he found some very interesting facts about this woman. She had turned up in Russian, Spanish, Italian, Chinese, and American databases for many strange reasons. She has been accused of theft, murder, foul play, terrorist attacks, harassment, and other things. The most recent was for trying to steal Russian government secrets but failed and was almost captured, but the agent sent to find and capture her was only met with dust. Like remnants of a ghost.

  
Bruce pulled into the parking lot and climbed out, walking inside, towards the elevator, and pressed the 27th floor. He did not know if she was armed or not, and he guess that she wasn’t if she went up to someone and asked for his appearance, risking her getting arrested or worse. He knew, against all other judgement, that he should call security and get this woman arrested and within the hands of justice. But, his curiosity was greater than any ethical thought, and he pushed it all away purely to see what she had come to see him, personally, about.

  
When he walked in, she stood with her back to him, looking outside of the large glass window. She had on a trim, black dress, like for official work, and her hair was in black curls, pulled back in a loose ponytail with black heels. She seemed to be holding a file in one hand, but her gaze was set on the city.   
“It’s like overlooking a great, concrete kingdom.” She says after the door had shut behind him. He did not say anything, but continued to stand where he was. She turned her head back a bit but did not face him fully.

  
“Do you know who I am, Mr. Wayne?” she questions. Huh, so she cut right to the chase. She was probably aware of the mass amount of security, but he guessed the fear didn't sway her.

  
“Yes.” He replied, putting his hands in his pockets.

  
“Good, so you know I’m not some vulnerable, weak journalist snooping around in things you think I shouldn’t.” she sighed and turned, walking over and sat at a rolley chair in front of the table. Bruce nodded, she did not seem to be a physical threat, and there was no sign of a weapon, yet.

  
"It didn't come to mind." he replied.

  
“I have come asking for some info on an inmate at Arkham Asylum.” She opened the folder and took out a picture, setting it on the table. “Jonathan Crane.”  
Bruce glanced at the picture, and the year’s past events flew through his mind like a speeding bullet. He remained standing, not joining her at the table.

“Yes, what makes you think I have anything to do with him?” he questions, wondering why a criminal like her would be looking into a man like Jonathan Crane, and why she would come to him? Unless...  
But, she didn't heed his question, instead, barrelling forward.

“Why was he admitted to Arkham? I mean, I’ve read the file, and I know it is not true.” She says, setting the file on the table. His eyebrows furrowed, and he glanced at the file again, looking to her.

“You mean you don’t know what happened this past year? The outbreak of Arkham’s prisoners? The riot that happened on the same night? You never heard or saw any of that?” he inquires, glancing from the file to her.

“I do, and I know Jonathan would not have triggered it, well, at least not by himself.” She replies, sitting straight, and proper, not a single tinge of nervousness, fear, or anything visible in her being. She was emotionless, but kept firing questions that Bruce didn’t know if he should answer.

  
They sat in silence for at least 5 minutes, until Bree broke it again.

“I plan on seeing Mr. Crane in a day’s time. Seeing if he will be able to-“ but Bruce cut her off.

  
“He won’t be able to.”

  
“Why not?”

  
Bruce didn’t reply for a few minutes, in thought. He knew this woman was an international threat, and could kill him within seconds (or, well, playboy Bruce Wayne, anyway). But, he still had that curiosity, and it was telling him to lend an ear, to lend a helping hand to see where this all goes... And for what reason, too.

“How about you come to my place tonight? I’m having a party for some governor from Tokyo or something. There, I will be happy to tell you anything you wish. And, it will be a little bit safer, for you, and I.” he explains simply. Bree’s eyes narrow, thinking about the possibilities that might happen.

“So, you’re willing to let a full-blown criminal into your home, during a crowded party, full of witnesses who are liable to recognize me and get me sent to prison?” she says, and Bruce thought that maybe she had fear after all, and let her slide away. But then, she smirks. 

“You can't scare me off that easily, Mr. Wayne... I’ll be there.” And she stood up, gathering her things and walking towards the door.

“Oh, Ms. Walker?” Bruce calls, turning back to her.  
She had her hand on the door handle but turned, “Yes, Mr. Wayne?”

“Be careful who you get involved with, and who you talk about here. Especially in Gotham.” She looked back at him with sly eyes, tilting her head to the side.

"Well, I think I started off pretty well, with you, anyway..." she said. He stood for a moment, and shifted on his feet,

"How and why is that, Ms. Walker?" he questions. She met his eyes, her eyes flickering down his suit, then back to his eyes.

"Let's just say we have a... similar lifestyle." She said with a smile like poison, and opened the door, but stopped once more. Bruce watched her, taking a slight step back in preparation for any sneak attack.

“Ms. Walker?” Bruce says, raising an eyebrow. She glanced her head to the side,

“Oh, just... call me Bree, for now on.” She says and exits the room, the door shutting behind her.  
Bruce nods, everything about her was puzzling. She didn’t seem to let anyone in, or show any emotion. It reminded him of himself, when he was in training. Bruce turned to face the city again, his face heavy with the weight of the past events, but he knew everything was just beginning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned, there is some abuse in this chapter. Only slapping in the face, some shouting.
> 
> Just trying to give trigger warnings!

Bree drove to her hotel, probably one of the least luxurious ones in Gotham. Her little trip to Gotham was supposed to be quick, easy, discreet... Only to originally to verify the stories of Falcone to see if they were true, if she was free of his bearing eye in Gotham. But now... a ghost decided to haunt her from her past.  
She thought back to her and Bruce's conversation at Wayne Tower. Why had he just gone out and invited her like that? There had to be something up, and she didn’t know what... You never just causually invited a world-class criminal to a garden party.

 

She had a few hours to spare to get ready for the party. Even if the hotel wasn't the best, she still had a fine, clear view of the city below. She let her thoughts take over her mind. Memories of Jonathan circulated through her mind. The ones before she left Gotham, and before he apparently became insane. She had been so young, so innocent, and blinded by love. She was a fresh college graduate (and budding criminal mastermind), and Crane was still getting his doctorate in psychology. She had met him when she took her first semester in the same area. He had been her tutor and her friend, and very soon after her first serious boyfriend. That’s when she saw little things that began to change him.

  
He started to get agitated, paranoid. His work devoured him whole, and he would stay in late at night consumed in his studies. She was worried, and tried to convince him to see someone, and thought he didn’t love her anymore. It nearly broke her heart.

  
_“Why are you doing all of this?” Bree questions, her light, airy, innocent voice filled the air of Jonathan’s office. Because even then, she had to make herself different from whom she truly was. The basic training of spywork had taken it's toll._

  
_“Because, I have to, and I-I…” he couldn’t think of anything to say. He looked up and saw her looking at a few papers. He snatched them out of her hands, shoving them in a file folder._

  
_“Don’t look at them!” he shouts. Bree jumps slightly. That was the first time he had raised his voice at her. Not even when she did something wrong when he tutored her, he never yelled at her._

  
_He looks up, seeing her startled and scared face. He sighs, his eyes softening and he stands straight, walking over and pulling her into an embrace. She didn’t respond at first, then slowly hugged back._

  
_“Why are you doing this?” she whispers again softly._

  
_“To protect you, to make sure none of this happens to you.” He mumbles. She frowns, thankful he was taller than her so he couldn’t see her face. What does he mean? She was so utterly confused._

  
_“Jonathan, maybe you should take a break…” she mumbles. Jonathan pulls away slightly, his hair slightly disheveled, his glasses tilted slightly. It made him look like a mad man._

_“Why should I? This is my life’s work.” He says, gesturing around the office. It was extremely cluttered, papers and files strewn everywhere. Nothing looked organized at all._

_“I know, but… maybe we should just, you know, get away for a bit…” she says, fixing his hair slightly. She smiles softly, but his face sunk into the normal, firm, harsh expression._

_“No… no, I can’t.” he says and pulls away almost too quickly, sitting back at his desk. Bree frowns, glancing around the room again._

_“Jonathan, I think you’re taking this a little bit too over the edge.” She says, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. But he jerked away, like she had some sort of disease._

_“No, I’m fine.” He mutters, writing a few things down on a stray piece of paper hurriedly._

_“Jonathan, please-“she insists, but he cut her off._

_“Stop it, Breanne.” He mutters. She looks at him, shocked._

_“W-what?” she whispers, but she heard him. She heard him loud and clear. He looks up, realizing what he just said. First names were always off limits for Bree, anyone who used them was considered dead to her... Since those who had used her first name were, literally, 6 feet under._

_“No, Bree, I-I didn’t mean it-“ he said but stood up to quickly, knocking over his chair and making Bree jump back. He reached out for her hand but she recoiled._

_“No, Jonathan. You’ve changed.” She says, her voice growing a bit stronger. Something in Jonathan’s eyes changed._

_”I’ve changed?! I'm reckless?!” he shouts. “I’m the one who goes out every night running the risk of getting killed?! The one who goes drinking with their stupid friends?! And you say I am the one who’s changed?!”_

  
_Bree felt tears begin to fill up in her eyes._

_“Jonathan, stop this…” then he did something she never thought he would ever do._

_He slapped her across the face._

  
_She stumbled back, knocking over a stack of papers. She felt her cheek, it was hot like fire. She looks at Jonathan from behind her hair, terrified. But the terror was soon replaced with rage. She stumbled up, grabbing her bag and jacket, her knuckles white._

_“W-Where are you going?!” he stammers. She shuts her eyes, tears of anger and sadness streaming down her face._

_“It doesn’t matter, as long as I never, ever see you again!” she shouts and runs out, slamming the door behind her._

Bree came back to reality. That was her very last memory of him. She had never seen him again after that. He hadn’t even called or tried reaching her in any way. It seemed after that night he disappeared from her life completely.

  
She raises her hand to her face and wipes her cheek lightly, pulling it away and seeing a stray tear on finger. Her hand balled into a fist, and she lowered it to her side.

She wasn’t weak and innocent anymore.

And she never will be ever again.


	4. Chapter 4

Bree pulled up in her silver Porchse and stopped infront of the Wayne Mansion. She climbed out and shuts the door, giving the keys to one of the men waiting. She walks up the steps, looking around. People were walking around and talking in their suits and fancy dresses, holding glasses of wine and champagne that glittered in the light. She didn’t look much different, and practically blended in. She had on a nice red dress, the top hugging her figure then poofed out around her waist just slightly with black tool. Her hair was half up, half down, in curls. Her standard black heels clicked on the floor as she walked up the grand staircase, to Mr. Wayne’s office. She slowly opens the door and shuts it quietly. She turns and sees two bookcases on the sides, and a big brown desk in the center with two fancy computers. She glances around before walking over and sitting.   
She turned on the computer and was faced with a password protected system. She takes a deep breath and tapped a few keys, running a process-of-elimination before it finally beeped with the right one. She looked through the computer, trying her best to find anything useful. But, it was obvious there was nothing of importance to her on this computer. There was hardly anything at all... Shouldn't all of his files be here on this computer? It looked like this was his main console in his house...

  
But, another discreet file caught her eye, also password protected. Her finger hovered over the keyboard, before beginning another process of elimination run, but someone spoke.

  
“Glad you’re handy with a computer.” A voice said from infront of her. She froze, then sighs, slowly canceling everything out, just to see if anything else caught her eye she could look into later... No such luck.

  
“But you are pretty secretive with one.” She says and turns in the chair, facing Bruce.

  
“Would you like to dance?” he says and extends his hand. She looked at his hand warily, then her eyes flickered up to him and she stood up, taking his hand.

  
"I suppose I could allow myself just a little play with my work." she said, tilting her head to the side with a sly smile.

  
Instead of walking back to the party, they walked to a large balconey. The voices were not as loud but the music could still be heard. Bruce wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close, and Bree rested her hand on his shoulder lightly. They began to dance slowly.

  
“So, what is it I need to know?” Bree whispers, not entirely sure they were alone, or if anyone wasn’t watching.

  
Bruce hesitated. He didn't know how far this woman's knowledge extended, but it was obvious that she had some idea of who he was, his connections, his work he did by night. He decided that if he were to divugle this information to her... He was sure whatever intetions she had, they were personal. Especially if she were looking into a man such as Doctor Crane.

  
“He won’t be entirely sane. He developed a toxin that drives people insane. It was too late to give him an antidote, so now he’s…” Bruce trailed off. Bree held her breath.  
“Not himself.” she murmurs.

  
“Basically.” He replies.

  
They danced for a few minutes, Bree trying to think of what to say.

  
“He used to be a genius you know.” She mumbles. “Before he was turned it what he is now.”

  
“Oh, I believe he was." Bruce says, "He got around several courts and got many criminals into Arkham, claiming they were mentally unstable. Some psychologist, he was.” he scoffs. Bree laughs,

  
“That’s what he was always talking about. Trying to help people and understand the human mind. It drove him crazy...” Bree said, and understood the metaphor of the information.

  
“Can you get me into Arkham without the police getting on my tail? All I want to do is talk to someone, not murder anyone.” Bree adds. Bruce hesitated again, not really knowing this woman's intentions as well as he thought... She could be lying to him, but she could be telling the truth. This was a game that he would have to dance very carefully around.

“Possibly. I’ll see what I can do.” He says and smiles. Bree nods, thinking.

  
“Will he be… aggressive? I will use force if I have to.” She says. _Hm, there it is_ , Bruce thought. He knew it wouldn't be all nice and games.

  
“Maybe, depends on if they have him in a straight jacket or not.” He stated bluntly.

  
“Well, then I better take precautions.” She says with a light sigh, almost out of regret.

  
“Just don’t get into too much trouble.” Bruce laughs.

  
“Oh, I’ll try my absolute hardest.” She says sarcastically.

  
“Well, I’m just saying. Because if they do have a reason to arrest you, I can’t stop them.”

  
“I can always find a way out, Mr. Wayne.” She assures him with a smirk.

  
They stopped after a few more minutes.

  
“I think you have answered all of my questions.” She says, and pulls away. Bruce looks at her, seeing something in her eyes. Something lost, upset.

  
“Stop by any time you like, I’m sure Alfred will be thrilled to know I’m seeing someone who is female and has a desire to go beyond sleeping with me.” He chuckles. Bree smiles slightly, but then it faded to her normal pursed lips.

  
“I’ll think about it, Mr. Wayne.” She says and turns, walking out, back into the office. She glances back to see Bruce facing outside, his back to her. She opens the door and walks out, back to the party. She slips into another room, it was basically another spare office. If she knew anything, Bruce wouldn’t keep anything important in his actual office. It would be much too obvious... And a man like Wayne would have his secrets.

  
Luckily, she knew a few of them.

  
She walks to the large book case and starts pulling out books, setting them on the desk till she finally found one that wouldn’t budge. She slowly pulls it, and the bookcase pushes into the wall and slides to the right.

  
It was a big room full of files. She walks in and looks through all of them. They were in A-B-C order. She finally gets to the one she was looking for. She slips it out and puts it under her arm. She walks back out and closes the door, putting all the books back into place silently and swiftly. She walks to a window and opens it, climbing up and jumping down. It wasn’t a long fall, and she landed in a crouch, the file still under her arm. She walks back to the front and a sleek sports car pulls up. She stealthily slid inside, thanking the driver and they were off.

  
 _They’re so gullible,_ she thought.

  
She climbed into the car and thanked the man sweetly, then drove off quickly back to her hotel. She had to move and become invisible just long enough to read the file.

  
 _Sorry, Mr. Wayne_ , she thought to herself. _But I have to know your dirty little secrets._


	5. Chapter 5

Bree went to her alternate hotel and sat on the couch, taking out the folder and setting it on the table. She stood up and walked to her room, taking off her dress and pulling down her hair. She changed into a t shirt and shorts, walking to the table and sits down with a bottle of water.

  
She picked up the file and looked through it. She looked at Bruce’s past, about his parents, what happened to them, what they tried to accomplish, and what they left him, which was basically everything they owned. Some billionaire, she scoffed, living on the remnants of his fathers’ kingdom.

  
She also learned he had ties with the infamous Batman, but it didn’t explain how. So... her suspicions were true, and the paper trail lead home. But, she had only heard stories of the Batman, and had seen footage of him on the news, but that was about it. She looked over the rest and then shut the folder, walking to the bathroom and pulled out the metal trashcan. She took a lighter and started it, lighting the file and throwing it in the trashcan. It burned slowly, till ash was only left. She sighs and walked to the bed, flopping down onto it on her back.

  
By tomorrow... It would be time to visit an old friend.

  
~*~

  
Dressed in a black pencil skirt, black pantyhose a white dress shirt tucked in, a black blazer and black stilettos with a silver steel heel, she thought herself fit to make a trip to Arkham. Hopefully she would blend in to the lawyers, nurses, and psychologists who decided to pay a trip to the sanitarium.

  
She drove to Arkham and parked the car, walking inside. She took an elevator to the lower floor, since that was where the more… dangerous, inmates were kept. She asked for Jonathan Crane and the man asked for her I.D. She paid no mind to the security camera (though she was aware of them) then slowly takes it out, handing it to him. He barely glances at it then gave it back.

  
“Welcome, Ms. Revette.” He says and presses a button, opening the door. She turns and puts it back in her bag. She was escorted down the hall to the very end, and the man opened the door and she walks inside, the door shutting behind her.

  
And there sat Jonathan, sitting in a chair infront of a table, his hands in hand cuffs. She drops her bag, it made a loud BANG. But Crane didn’t look up, or flinch.

  
“Hello, Jonathan.” She said icily, and walks to the table, sitting across from him.

  
“Hello, Breanne.” He replies. Bree tilts her head to the side, feeling her jaw tense.

  
“You still remember me?”

  
“Of course we do.” He said, his voice a little bit off. Bree brushed it off, then leaned back in her chair.

  
“Why did you do it?” she questions, cutting to the chase.

  
“What made you this way?”

  
Jonathan didn’t say anything at first, then tilted his head to the side, still looking down.

  
“We wanted to help people. They needed our help, they needed the medicine. We fixed them up nice.” He said, his voice breaking he seemed agitated. He looks up slightly, lifting his head. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had heavy bags under his eyes.

  
“We can fix you too, Breanne. _We_ can help you.” He says, except it didn’t sound like him, it didn’t sound like him at all.

  
“Who’s “we”?” Bree questions, leaning away just the slightest. She could already predict the movements, the reactions.

  
Suddenly Crane banged his fists on the desk and stood up, leaning close to her,

  
“ **SCARECROW**!” he shouts. She jumped slightly, but didn't move back.

  
Then he started to laugh. Not like anything was funny, it was a psychotic laugh. He sits back down on the chair.

  
“You’re afraid. You’re afraid of us.” He cackles.

  
“I’m not afraid of anyone.” She murmurs. He shoves the desk forward slightly,

  
“Oh, yes, _yes_ you are, Breanne. You are afraid of yourself. I know your mind, I know you better than anyone. Maybe even yourself.” He laughs. She had had it.

  
She stood up and shoved the table to the side and pushed Crane back, her hand moving away from his neck to his shoulder, holding it in just the right place, hard.

  
“You’re a _monster_.” She hisses, venom dripping from her voice. He laughs, his hand going up her body slightly.

  
“Says the one who made one of herself.” He says and smirks. She could feel her other hand curl into a fist, her knuckles turning white.

  
"And I think the monsters in our heads are far more frightening than the ones we see ourselves."

  
She shoved him down and he falls backwards, off the chair, laughing away. She stood straight and fixed her jacket, turning and picking up her bag.

  
“I’m taking you back, Bree.” He says, this one sounded more like himself.

  
“And this time, you’re here to stay.” He laughs.

  
She turns, walking back out and shutting the door. She had had enough for one day. Now, she needed a shopping spree.


	6. Chapter 6

She slips out of the window, in her normal skin-tight black suit, and her black mask. She looks at the diamond necklace she had just slipped out of a Baroness' open jewlery box beside her window. She honestly didn’t care who it was, but the necklace was nice.

  
She had been doing this for about 2 hours now, going from house to house of Gotham officials, or celebrities. She took whatever she wanted; jewelry, money, sometimes even a trinket or two. She even prevented some crime because it was happening. She stopped two men from mugging this kid who apparently stole an bag of chips and a soda from them, and stopped a guy from breaking into someone’s car. And she rarely did those things unless it had to do with people that were under her. She only stole or tricked the ones above her, like Bruce Wayne for example. Except she never stole anything major, only a file.

  
She climbed to the top of a building and looked out over the city. She heard a whoosh from behind her and turned, seeing a black figure, and she could only think of one person.

  
“Batman.” She greets, putting the diamond necklace in a small pouch by her hip.

  
“Bree.” He replies. She rolled her eyes, but sighs. She knew she didn't have a respectable name like him, only the name that the databases threw around; Black Swan, for example. Or the Black Widow, but she preferred the Swan.

  
“Did Bruce send you here?” she questions.

  
“He wants the file back.” He said firmly. She sighs, shifting slightly.

  
“Already destroyed it. All secrets burned to ash, nothing more nothing less.”

  
“He is trusting that that is true.” He says. She nods, shrugging,

  
“Of course, I wouldn’t lie to Gotham’s hero, would I?” she pouts. He stood stoically, the wind moving his cape around his feet slightly.

  
“What did you want with Crane?” he says, moving on to another subject.

  
“Just wanted to see an old friend.” She says exasperatingly, glancing to the side.

  
“Be careful with who you get involved with, Swan.” Batman says, and her head whipped back to face him.

  
“Oh, I know well enough. Bruce has already told me.” She assures him and walks to the edge, looking down below.

  
“You would know, since you and him are close, are you not?” she says and looks back at him. At first he said nothing, just looking to her with a passive face before he replied;

  
“We are.”

  
“And he tells you everything?”

  
He said nothing, then walked closer to her.

  
“Something is coming. Something similar to what happened a few months ago. If anything, worse.” He says and looks at the city below.

  
“Then, I guess I better pack my bags.” She sighs and looks back at the city. What a pity.

  
“I could use your help.” He offers.

  
“Whenever something’s coming, like you said, I run. It’s who I am.” She mutters.

  
“Maybe it’s time to stop and fight for once.” He says. She sighs heavily, knowing it was the truth. This was one demon she had to bury. For good.

  
“I’ll think about it.” She says finally. The Batman nods, then turns to her fully.

  
“Good luck, Bree.” He says and runs, then jumps off the building, flying through the air. She looks after him and smiles slightly, then turns and jumps down, to the fire escape then climbs her way down, her thoughts consuming her on her way home.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a lil set up before Sh!t gets real...

Bree was packing her things, and quickly.

  
After she had gotten back she had immedeitly started packing her things after she had changed into something a bit more subtle. She had to get out of here, and quick.  
She decided against staying. While yes, she needed to lay this down to rest, fear got the best of her. She went with her flight response; one she used often. She just couldn't help it.

  
She glanced at the watch on her wrist she had stolen from earlier. A very expensive Rolex, with real silver and leather. She had about 25 minutes to get out of Gotham.  
She picks up her bag and sets it on the floor, walking into the living room and freezes. Bruce Wayne was standing right in the middle of it.

  
“What do you want?” she hisses.

  
"Can't you see I'm busy?"

  
“I'm here to convince you otherwise to leave.” He says and shrugs.

  
“Listen, I thought about it, and I made my choice. I don’t want to get involved with Gotham’s problems. I have some of my own.” She says and walks over to her purse, rifling through it.

  
“Crane escaped Arkham a few hours ago.” Bruce says. Bree dropped her purse and slowly turned, her shoulders tense.

  
“What?” she hisses.

  
Bruce nods, sighing heavily,

  
“He somehow escaped shortly after you left. People are now trying to find you.” He explains.

  
“By people, you mean the police.” She snorts.

  
“Precisely. Just trying to make it a little bit easier.” He chuckles.

  
“No one needs to sugar coat anything for me, sweetheart.” She says and turns, picking up her purse and setting it on the table. She hesitated, lifting her head slightly.

  
“Do you have any idea what he might try to do? What he’s even after? Besides, why should I even try to aid them in finding him?” she spat.

  
“The Batman is willing to go to extraordinary measures for your help.” Bruce began, watching her carefully.

  
“Like what?” Bree inquires, walking to the bedroom.

  
“Give you a clean slate, for one.” Bruce offers.

  
“You and I both know that’s not possible.” She laughs.

  
“With a man like me, anything is possible... I think you know that.” Bruce says. Bree walks out and stops, facing Bruce. She puts her hands on her hips.

  
“What does he need me to do?” she asks.

  
“Just help track him down again. And get him back in Arkham.” Bruce explains.

  
“And where do I need to meet him?” she mumbles. Bruce smiles small,

  
“The roof of the police department. You thinking of joining?” he questions.

  
“Not thinking.” She says and walks over to the dresser, pulling open the drawer, exposing her suit.

  
“Tell your Batman he has my full and utmost support and help.”

  
~*~

  
Bree climbed up the side of the police department building silently and stealthily. She heard talking and hesitated, creeping up to the side and looked over, four men standing on the rooftop. She was in full gear, including her mask and belt, ready, just like she said.

  
“Glad you showed.” Batman says and turns to her. She climbed up the side, and slipped onto the rooftop.

  
"Didn't have much of a choice." she mumbles.

  
“Who’s this?” says an old man with big round glasses. She guessed that was the notorious Comissioner, Gordon. The other two looked like just normal officers.

  
“The Black Swan. She has ties with the Jonathan Crane disappearance.” Batman replies, looking at Bree, then Gordon.

  
“Oh, yes, the criminal-turned-good.” He says uneasily, glancing over her.

  
“I’m no criminal-turned-good, hot-shot. I just want Crane back where he belongs.” She snaps.

  
“Now, what’s the plan?” Bree questioned, crossing her arms.


	8. Chapter 8

Bree walked through the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Gotham. They had talked about the plan almost 3 hours ago, but they had to act now. They decided to let Bree in first, since she was their best bet. She was hooked up with a Bluetooth connected with Gordon and the Batman. She was still in gear, and had her mask on, too.  
She heard voices and turned, jumping onto the wall and hanging from the ceiling using grips on her gloves and her heels dug between the iron ceilings. Two guards walked under her and she dropped, landing on both of their shoulders, sending them down.

  
“Remember, try not to kill anyone.” She heard the Batman’s voice say in the ear piece.

  
“No promises.” She says and continues walking. She saw one guy walk through a hallway to her left and he started running and shouting. She rolls her eyes and dodged a bullet then kicked the gun out of his hands and kicked it away, grabbing his wrist and turning it around in a sick grip. She heard him scream in agony as his wrist broke in two. She kicked him against the wall and he hit his head, passing out.

  
“That good enough?” she says and kept on walking.

  
“It’ll do.” He replies. He didn't sound very amused.

  
She knew he was outside, trying to figure out what was on the inside. Gordon and his men were waiting outside for the all-clear to storm in, guns-a-blazing.

  
She heard more voices, this time a lot, and walks out to the main part of the warehouse. She walks onto the balcony and sees rows and rows of men with guns and in full gear. It looked like some sort of army. Not a very organized army, but an army nonetheless.

  
Then she saw Crane.

  
He looked like he did at the asylum. Except for the fact he didn’t have any cuffs. He had on a ripped up suit of sorts. It was faded, ripped, and frayed at the edges. He still had that wild look in his eyes. He was defiantly no longer the man she knew. And she had to face it.

  
“What do you see?” Gordon questions in a crackly voice of static.

  
“An… an army of some sorts.” She whispers and walks closer, gripping the railing.

  
“That’s why they must’ve broken Crane out.” Batman says, “To raise an army with his toxins.”

  
“Most likely.” She mumbles.

  
Suddenly, she heard yelling. Yelling on both sides and all heads turned to her.

  
“Shit.” She mutters and sees two men coming on either side of her. One ran at her with no gun and she grips the railing and kicks herself up, digging both of her heels in the man’s chest and shoving him back in the man behind him. She turns to the two others and kicks on in the head and grabs his arm and turns him around, using him as a shield since the other man started shooting at her. She used the unconscious- probably dead- guy’s gun and shot him in the head. She shoves the guy’s body off her and stood straight. Three other men walked towards her with guns and someone started shooting at her. She ducks and runs back into the hallway, meeting another man and gripping his throat, slamming him against the wall and hearing a crunch somewhere. She didn’t know where it came from and let the man fall since he did not resist.  
She was getting cornered and fast. She runs at three other guys and jumps up, grabbing a pipe and swinging on it, kicking two in the face and wrapping her legs around another’s neck. She knocked him down and didn’t let him go until his face was blue and he went unconscious.   
She stood up and heard more men coming. She stepped into the shadows and saw them pass, barely even glancing at her. She rolls her eyes.

  
“These guys aren’t specially trained. This is some kind of guerilla army.” She murmurs as she continued down a hall then opened a iron door and pushed. It opened and it was back into the large room with men. She saw two men that heard her come in and she gripped the railing and flipped down. She ran down the catwalk and took out a gun/stunner the Batman had lent it to her. She fired it and a string blasted out and attached itself to the ceiling and she flew to the other side. It snapped and wheeled back into the gun. She put it back at her hip and began jogging again. Okay, so not a stun gun, _or_ a gun at all. Still came in handy, though.

  
“I could use some back up, here, guys!” she growls, but got no response.

  
“Dammit, I knew it.” She hisses and grabbed the gun a man was holding and hit the butt of it in his face, knocking him out instantly. She grabbed the gun and shot two men that where running at her. Each a single shot to the forehead. She dropped it and ran behind an officer and kicked the gun out of his hands and grabbed his throat from behind.

  
“Where’s Crane?” she hisses in his ear.

  
“Right behind you, honey.” Says a voice. And she whirls around, but was met with a white smoke of some sorts. She shrieks in surprise and stumbles back, falling over the railing.

  
Luckily she grabbed it in time and swung down and landed on her hands and knees. She was in a daze, and her eyes were foggy from whatever the hell that was. Her ears started to ring like crazy.

  
“I… I need help. I need backup…” she says into the Bluetooth. She grabbed at the railing numbly, and tried to pull herself up but only fell over again. Her ears were ringing and her vision was a complete foggy mess.

  
“Someone… please…” she mumbles and then everything went black.


	9. Chapter 9

When Bree came around she was stripped of her belt and was tied to a chair inside the large room. She was lucky her mask was still on, she had no idea why they left it, but it didn't really come to mind.

  
Apparently the sedative had worn off, and her ears were no longer ringing, and her eyes were clear. She looks around the room. There were no soldiers, only her, a few men, and Crane.

  
Crane wore some sort of a mask basically like a bag with holes in it. It reminded her of a scarecrow...

  
Oh, so no wonder he calls himself the Scarecrow. She thought.

  
“Glad you came around.” He says, standing infront of her. She didn’t say a word, just looking at him.

  
“Stupid plan, coming in here by yourself. You even got yourself trapped. I thought you were better at this.” He laughs. She watched him, feeling the anger seethe in her eyes. She was sure she was radiating hate. Hate towards him, towards the Batman and her supposed "team" that was supposed to stick by her, and help her. Looks like they just wanted to set her up for her demise.

  
“So sorry your plan didn’t work out so well.” He says, his tone sarcastically sorry. He walks over and kneels in front of her. But, she wasn't going to let him gloat, or win. No way in hell.

  
“Oh, trust me, that was all a part of the plan.” She says and kicks his feet from under himself and stands, swinging the chair around and it hit his face. He howls in pain and rolls to the side. A guy came at her and she looks back then rams the chair right into him, hitting him in the gut and chest. Another come up from her side and knocks him down, doing a back flip and landing on him. The chair crushing him instantly. She stands, holding herself up as best as she could. She turned around but was met with another whiff of white smoke. She coughs, stumbling to the side, and ran out of the room, barreling into the railing of the walkway outside of the room.

  
But, these were much different effects from the other smoke. She heard warped voices and noises. Her vision was twisted and just completely off. She turns and saw Crane without his mask. Except, his eyes were deep black holes and blood poured from them. When he grinned, it was like someone cut his mouth to form a smile. She grips the railing, trying to pull herself up so she could fight.

  
Crane reached for her mask but she swatted it away and stood, swaying from side to side. He kicked her in the gut and she fell, landing on her hands and knees, gasping.

“Let’s see who the snake behind the mask is.” He says, his voice deep, contorted to Bree. He grabs the mask and yanks it off, grabbing a fistful of her hair and forcing her to look up. Jonathan's smirk dropped off his face, his complexion turning a sickly pale in shock.

  
Bree looked up at him, seeing only the image she was forced to look at. She jerks away, finding the will to fight and stood. The vision flashed from different images. He was the bloody beast she saw first, then her dying mother, then her murderous father, then, something she has always feared more than anything in her entire life.

  
Herself.

  
Crane had no chance of escaping. He tried shoving his men in front of her as they ran to his rescue, but she plowed through them by shooting them, breaking their necks, or worse. Her breathing was ragged and her eyes were wide with fear and something else. Something he couldn’t recognize or even comprehend. And it frightened him more than anything. Even the Batman, or his other self.

  
She didn’t know why, but Bree was sure to get to herself, or in this case, Jonathan, to get rid of them. The vision of herself was grinning wickedly, blood on her hands and had long, overgrow, and black chipped nails. Bree only knew one thing; destroy her.

  
Bree was always taught to face her fears, no matter what it was. Yes, she had put it off, she had tried to run and hide... But this time, she was not going to run. She was not going to hide.

  
This fear was either going to be extinguished, or she would drag it down with her.

  
Crane was horrified; he didn’t know what to do, or where to go. She was coming for him, and he knew it. He ran down the stairs and tried making his way to the door but Bree jumped in front of him from above.

  
She grabbed his throat and lifted him up, flipping him onto a table. She just about crushed his windpipe until she grabbed his wrist, twisting it to where she might’ve yanked it clean off. He jabbed her in the ribs with his watch and she let go just enough for him to flip off the table onto the ground. His wrist hurt like hell, throbbing. But he hardly noticed, thanks to the adrenaline and the toxins in his system.

  
She pushed the table aside, and then yanked Crane up. She punched him in the gut, then the face. Bree was a machine; she just kept on throwing punches, over and over and over. He tried to feebly fight her off but he was no match for her. She pinned him down, one knee pressing on his shoulder, her other leg pinning his wrist down with her heel. Crane didn’t say anything, he didn’t do anything. He knew this was the end.

  
Bree’s visions lessened a bit, but she knew she had to take it out. She knew what she would do, crush it’s windpipe with her hand then break its neck. She raised her hand to do the deed until someone grabbed her from behind and yanked her up.

  
She just about turned and beat them too, until someone injected a needle into her neck and pressed down. She screamed in surprise, for she felt no pain. She collapsed back but something black caught her. She was tired, she didn’t know what to do or think. Everything was getting foggy, and messy, and blurry.

  
So finally, she gave in, and let the darkness consume her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, here is our close to our riveting series... Sort of xD it certainly has been a trip, and I actually edited this whole thing in two days o.o I think it's a lot better than what it used to be...
> 
> I really hope you've enjoyed it! Feel free to leave any comments!

Bree awoke with an aching feeling in her head, her chest, her abdomen, her whole body. It felt like there was a gigantic rock weighing down on her. The effects of Crane's toxins must have taken a toll on her body. She could feel the effects of a cold sweat wearing off. She finally peeled her eyes open, laying in bed and looked to the side where light was escaping from curtains.

Her vision cleared a bit more, and the window was huge, the curtains long and thick, much better material than the one of her dingy hotel she had originally been staying in. The bed was softer, too... The sheets, not as scratchy...

"You're awake." a voice said, and she turned her gaze towards the source. She breathes out softly, recognizing the shape of Bruce Wayne.

"Where... Where am I? Why am I here?" she said, but her voice was so raspy, she could hardly form words. He walked over,

"You're at the Wayne Estate. You were... brought back here after the incident." he said, and grabbed a glass of water sitting by a pitcher of water. She began sitting up but he held out a hand. She slowly leaned back, then he helped her sit up, putting pillows behind her to help support her. She slowly took the glass, taking a sip.

"You've been out for six days... I was beginning to think I'd lost you." he says, and she greedily took down the water.

"C-Crane? What of him?" she questions, looking to Bruce. He hesitated, and she felt her heart jump.

"What happened to him?"

"Well... you certainly gave him a beating of his life. He didn't really enjoy that... But, he's safe and sound in the Arkham infirmary." he said, and she nods, looking away and closed her eyes with a sigh. So, it was over.

"I didn't... I didn't kill him." she said, and looked forward with half-lidded eyes. She slowly began to recollect the night she had gone in, and remembered the heavy hits and punches and kicks she had given to him. She remembered the sound of his bones breaking, of her gasping for air, of the warped images that she had witnessed because of his concoction.  But... he was gone, for good, hopefully.

"No, you didn't. He was on the brink, but no." he said, touching her shoulder lightly. She moved out of the way, and his hand dropped. He stood straight.

"My apologies..." he said, and she shook it off,

"It's fine... where are my things? My bags... The hotel..."  
  


"I located them with a bit of... help. They're all over there." he said, gesturing to the table in the corner and saw all of her things neatly put on the table. Not a bag missing.

"And my findings..."

"I don't know what you mean.' he said, meeting her eyes. She raised an eyebrow, and he pulled out a shiny watch, setting it on the table beside her.

"I hope this can compensate for them." he said, and he looked to her. She met his eyes, and gave a slight nod.

"Thank you, I suppose..." she said. He glanced away, and nods.

"I think it's I who should be thanking you... You gave your help, maybe a little more than necessary. And I think i owe you a debt for that." he said. She smiled, and reached over, taking the watch.

"I think I will save that for a different time... Maybe when I need a certain  _friend_ to help me out." she said, giving him a sly smirk and held the watch in her hand tightly, her finger gliding over the engraving  _Bruce Wayne._


End file.
